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HENRY NEHEMIAH DODGE 



A FLOWEE OF THE FIELD 



BY 

HENRY NEHEMIAH DODGE 

READ BY 

Rev. FREDERICK A. BISBEE, S.T.D. 

At the Dedication of the Old Potter House at Good 
Luck, N. J., August 16th, 1914 

ELIZA'S SONG 

and the Five Refrains Following 

sung BY 
Mrs. WILLIAM HENRY McGLAUFLIN 



PUBLISHED BY THE MURRAY PRESS 
FOR THE MURRAY GROVE ASSOCIATION 

1914 






COPYRIGHT, 1914 
BY 

HENRY NEHEMIAH DODGE 



ft 



DEC -9 1914 
©CU387877 



INTRODUCTION 

BY THE REV. FREDERICK A. BISBEE, S. T. D. 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

A valuable contribution to literature, and to our 
literature, is made in the poem of Dr. Henry Nehemiah 
Dodge, which was written for the dedication of the 
restored Potter House at Good Luck, N. J. Dr. 
Dodge is one of the very few poets able to sustain 
strength and interest through a long poem, and in his 
"Christus Victor" and "John Murray's Landfall" he 
has given to the world, and the world has apprecia- 
tively accepted, two poems which will hold a perma- 
nent place in literature. This new work is much 
shorter, and is an "occasional poem," which of neces- 
sity localizes it, but, like some of Whittier's "occa- 
sional poems," which rank among his noblest and best 
efforts, we are convinced that this one from Dr. 
Dodge has the historic and the literary value which 
assures it a permanent place. As a part of the litera- 
ture of Universalism, not only does it make a peculiar 
and winning appeal to those who have been in sym- 
pathetic touch with the sacred memories of Good 
Luck, but to all who, appreciating the priceless 
possession of our faith, are some time to seek its sources 



4 INTRODUCTION 

and gather new strength as they drink therefrom, the 
guidance of the wise hand of Dr. Dodge along the 
historic paths which he has made beautiful with the 
magic of his verse, will be most welcome. 

THE DEDICATION 

The story of the dedication of the restored 
Potter House is of interest in this connection. It was a 
glorious day. Every one who sensed the significance 
of this historic place desired to be there to witness 
the reconsecration of the home of Thomas Potter, in 
which he entertained John Murray. And it was a 
happy company which came to the sacred spot on 
that beautiful Sunday afternoon, August 16, 1914, to 
participate in the services. 

Those who had known the old house set in its 
tangle of neglected fields, and fast going to ruin, 
would never recognize the restored building and 
grounds; but Thomas Potter would have! For while 
the transformation has been complete, loving and 
sympathetic spirits have protected the place from 
being modernized out of its historic significance. 

Too much praise can not be given to the Rev. 
J. L. Wolbach, the resident superintendent, who, with 
his family, coming to the place late in the spring, 
with the most meager facilities, had wrought the 
miracle of change. Mr. John W. Moore of New 
York, representing the board of trustees, had full 





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INTRODUCTION 5 

charge of the restoration of the building, and Miss 
Ida R. East, the secretary, was not only the wise 
guide and counselor, but the hard worker in securing 
and placing the remarkable collection of magnificent 
furniture which so befits the surroundings. 

Approaching the house from the old church, 
along the very path over which Murray walked in his 
first approach, the dignified old building in its rich 
brown appeals to the highest sentiments. Through 
the old half-doors we entered the room and stood 
before the great fireplace, impressed by the sacred 
memories; we passed up the stairs, which curve right 
up over the fireplace, to enter the sleeping-chamber, in 
which Murray did not sleep the first night, but there 
wrestled with the Lord until the dawn, and there 
finally came to his decision to deliver the message 
which was the beginning of the Universalist Church 
in America. 

These rooms, together with the others in the 
old mansion, have been furnished by generous hands 
in a most fitting way; there is nothing inharmonious. 
Hardly a piece of furniture in the place is less than 
a century old, and the new has been made to conform 
to the old. These rare pieces have here been gathered 
as a tribute to the "Herald of Love" and the "Apostle 
of Faith." To Dr. Henry Nehemiah Dodge, the poet 
laureate of our faith, and Mrs. Dodge, an especial 
debt of gratitude is due for their generous and always 



6 INTRODUCTION 

fitting contributions. Naturally to them belonged the 
honor of furnishing John Murray's room. But they 
did not stop there, but touched with their generous 
sympathetic taste other points. The Rev. Dr. Marion 
Crosley, one of our oldest clergymen, had the honor 
of being one of the first contributors. The Univer- 
salist Church in Muncie, Ind., under the leadership 
of Dr. Edward G. Mason, gave most generously, as did 
Mrs. Cooper of New York, and many others, so that 
to-day the Potter House is furnished and made 
habitable. 

The building was crowded to the limit for the 
services of dedication, which had been carefully ar- 
ranged by the Rev. W. H. Skeels and Dr. Dodge, and 
were in charge of the new president of the Murray 
Grove Association, the Rev. Dr. W. H. McGlauflin. 

After the singing, by all present, of Dr. Bailouts 
hymn, "In God's Eternity/' the invocation was offered 
by the Rev. Emma E. Bailey, who has been one of 
the most faithful and generous friends of the place, 
and whose spiritual sympathies knit her close to the 
house and its associations. Dr. McGlauflin gave a 
brief address, in which he set certain great historic 
dates and names, and then the whole company united 
with him in the following service: 

Minister — To religious tolerance and freedom of speech, which 
gave to all denominations the right of use of the Potter 
Meeting-house, 



INTRODUCTION 7 

People — We dedicate this house. 

Minister — To the promulgation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ 
proclaimed throughout the world down long ages by his 
disciples and followers as moved by his divine Spirit, 

People — We dedicate this house. 

Minister — To brotherhood among men and peace among nations, 
as exemplified in the lives of John Murray and Thomas 
Potter, and to the firm conviction that men will yet learn 
that peace is better than war, that love is stronger than 
hate, and that God's goodness will finally be triumphant, 

People — We dedicate this house. 

Minister — To the eternal hope voiced by this prophet and this 
preacher of universal salvation, who met here for the first 
time, and out of whose meeting came forth the light of 
religious liberty as the dawn follows the darkest night, 

People — We dedicate this house. 

Minister — To faith in the possibilities of the future, and to cour- 
age to pursue these possibilities to the realization of their 
highest and holiest ends, 

People — We dedicate this house. 

Minister — To a sacred belief expressed in the building of a 
house of God here in the wilderness, that if we sow, He will 
send the increase, and to a determination to hold this ever 
in mind through the passing years, so that while individuals 
may come and go, the cause may finally triumph over all, 

People — We dedicate this house. 

Minister — To love, which suffereth long and is kind, which 
envieth not, which vaunteth not itself and is not puffed 
up, but which beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth 
all things, and endureth all things, 

Minister and People — We dedicate this house. 



8 INTRODUCTION 

The prayer of dedication was offered by the Rev. 
W. H. Skeels, and it lifted all into an atmosphere 
favorable to the appreciation of the great event of 
the day, the delivery of the poem which Dr. Dodge 
had written for the occasion. The reading of this 
poem was by the Rev. Dr. Frederick A. Bisbee, and 
the singing of the introductory song, the refrain intro- 
duced along the way, and the concluding song, for- 
tunately fell to the lot of Mrs. W. H. McGlauflin, 
who with her soulful voice gave rare interpretation. 
The benediction was pronounced by the Rev. James 
D. Herrick, of Towanda, Pa. 

THE POEM 

"A Flower of the Field" tells anew the miracle- 
story of the awakening of the soul of John Murray 
from the murk and gloom of a cheerless and oppressive 
theology, and experiences which cast a black shadow 
over his life, to the light and glory and inspiration of 
the universal love and purpose of God. 

Through the story runs the refrain, the "Song of 
Eliza," the young wife who shared with her husband 
the shadows and the revelation of the light. 

Those familiar with the fine work of Dr. Dodge in 
his poem, "John Murray's Landfall," will recall the 
historic incidents here given a new setting. The 
theological gloom of that period through which broke 
a ray of light in the larger vision of James Relly, the 



INTRODUCTION 9 

hiding in that dark soil of the little "seed of thought 
that lives to-day," caught the imagination of John 
Murray and his young wife, made them glad in the 
message they were to deliver, and as he preached, 
she sang of the unfolding flower which could not die. 

But even as the vision stirred their hearts, death 
lifted high his pitiless dart and smote their first-born 
son, and soon laid upon the shoulders of the preacher 
the still heavier cross, as the wife of his young man- 
hood drooped and died, and in disheartening solitude 
he faced a world of cruel misunderstanding and bitter 
enmity, from which he fled to hide himself in the wil- 
derness of the New World. 

But while bowed in discouragement over the dis- 
asters of his life, and fleeing from a seemingly relent- 
less fate, the seed of the "Little Flower, trodden under 
foot, crushed by the heel of wrong/' had taken root 
in another heart, and when the fleeing "Herald of 
Love" touched the shore of the New World, he was 
met by the "Apostle of Faith," who commanded him 
to speak. 

Then began the struggle between John Murray 
and Thomas Potter, between Murray and himself, 
and with his God, through the long hours of the night 
in the chamber of the old mansion, until the soul of 
the preacher surrendered, and in the little church 
which the "Apostle of Faith" had built with his own 
hands, the "Herald of Love" proclaimed his message, 



10 INTRODUCTION 

which was to reshape the religious thinking of the 
world. 

The Little Flower of the Field new-set in the 
garden of God's humanity, its fragrance is to encircle 
the world. 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 



A Flow of ikePtcld. 



Htlolle Belrtont 
b<5 Samuel. Wsbbc 



Lit -lie Flower,- lit arHt Flower, 3% 




trealk is waft -edL wide, — TKe murk and ejloo'm. have 




fe'.t thij jjowrer;. .And maij, not lo njj a - tide 




A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 



(To be Sung) 
"Frowning forests hid the sun, 

The sun that shines for all; 
The path of Hope, in light begun, 

Lay buried 'neath a pall. 

"Beneath the snow a floweret sweet 

Was dreaming of the day 
When Springtide light its bloom should greet 

With long-forgotten ray. 

"Hope, scenting fragrance in the gloom, 
Pressed on with hastening wing — 

Of this sweet blossom's heartening bloom 
My gladdened soul would sing. 

"Little Flower, little Flower, 

Thy breath is wafted wide; 
The murk and gloom have felt thy power, 

And may not long abide." 



14 A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

Adown the years, from long ago, 
Soft sings Eliza's voice; 

Afar I hear the rapture flow, 
And with her song rejoice. 

Her soul deliverance had found 
From terrors of the past; 

Saw Love supreme o'er sin abound, 
Victorious at last. 



Rejoicing with her song, I say, 
The gloom is fleeing far; 

Winter is melting into May, 
And risen the Morning Star! 



For ages long night hid the sun 

In medieval gloom; 
The path of Hope, in light begun, 

Led to eternal doom. 



Eternal doom, eternal doom, 

Tolling for Liberty; 
Eternal doom, Hope's rayless tomb, 

Keystone of tyranny! 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 15 

What demon-council forged this brand 

Fair Liberty to slay; 
Prelate and monarch hand in hand, 

Lords of the Judgment Day? 

precious Flower, precious Flower, 

Thy seed lay buried long; 
Trod by the haughty sons of power, 

Crushed by the heel of Wrong! 

A thousand years crept slowly by; 

Thy rootlets darkling slept; 
To Heaven oft rose the martyr's cry; 

Full oft thy children wept. 

Then rose the waking sun, and day 

Streamed on the startled night; 
The fading phantoms flee away 

Before the oncoming light. 

(To be Sung) 
Light of Love, sacred Flower, 

Thy breath is wafted wide; 
The murk and gloom have felt thy power, 

And may not long abide. 



16 A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

And may not long abide, for lo! 

Almighty Love doth reign; 
The eternal stream doth onward flow, 

Nor shall it flow in vain. 
* * 

Undaunted of the gloom a soul, 
A mighty soul, arose; 

Love's Herald saw the hurt made whole- 
Love conquering all His foes. 

In "Union" saw he all our race 

Inseverably one; 
Hid in the ample Heart of Grace, 

The heart of Calvary's Son. 



On that stupendous day of woe 
Love hid us in His heart; 

Love would not let the sinner go, 
Nor from the vilest part. 



Justice demanded penalty, 

Atonement for our sin; 
Love purchased us and set us free 

Or ever we had been. 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 17 

He saw no other God above, 

He saw no man below; 
Christ was the very Heart of Love, 

Whose glory he would show. 

In God he saw no longer three 

Divinities in one; 
He worshiped Perfect Unity, 

Of God and Man the Son. 

'Twas but symbolic imagery! 

Yea, our most precious thought, 
Where Justice one with Love we see, 

Love's Herald darkly sought. 

These ancient symbols voice the need 

Love knows Himself to give; 
Love's Passion, told in rite and creed — 

Through sacrifice to live. 

In his crude system hid the seed 

Of thought that lives to-day; 
Truth that a hungering world shall feed, 

With ever widening sway.* 



* See Appendix. 



18 A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

And we, perchance, as dimly see 
What yet doth wait in store 

Of Truth's august infinity, 
Disclosing more and more, 

As time flows on, the vast design 

Of Man's inheritance: 
The wondrous thought of Love Divine 

Our glory to enhance. 

He turned our faces toward the light, 
Amid the engulfing gloom — 

Though we may see with clearer sight, 
A giant doth he loom. 



What though he conquered Pisgah's height 

By ways we do not tread? 
He scaled the steep whose growing light 

Now streams upon our head! 



He saw our sundered, sin-hurt race 

United and complete; 
Clasped in Almighty Love's embrace, 

Drawn by Compassion Sweet. 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 19 

He saw our manhood lifted high, 

Made Godlike on the Cross; 
Clothed on with immortality, 

Redeemed from sin and loss. 



No more was Heaven a citadel 

For trembling refugees 
Snatched from the ravening jaws of Hell* 

A Despot's whim to please. 

Heaven was the vast, o'erarching dome 

Beyond all time and space; 
Of every man the ancestral home, 

Lit by the Father's face, 



Where should be healed each broken tie, 
Failure with victory crowned, 

Joy everlasting fill the sky, 
And life, more life abound. 



Sea of Sovereign Love Divine, 

Unfathomed Sympathy, 
The world's vast stress and pain were Thine, 

Majestic Unity! 



20 A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

Around Thy throne all worlds revolved, 
All souls were knit to Thee, 

Sin's minor chord by love resolved — 
Eternal Symphony! 

Inwove through all a golden thread, 
Thrown by a Hand Divine, 

Wrought for the living and the dead 
Love's marvelous design. 

Thou gav'st the joy of morning glow, 
The splendor of high noon, 

The twilight shadows moving slow, 
And slumber's nightly boon. 



Thou gav'st the Spring's sweet roundelay, 
The Summer's golden dream, 

Autumn enrobed in proud array, 
Snow-wreath and frozen stream. 



'Twas Love that brimmed the mighty deep, 
That built the mountains high; 

'Twas Love whose tempests headlong sweep 
Athwart the flaming sky; 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 21 

Whose silent constellations march 

Adown the starry vast, 
The Galaxy's resplendent arch, 

With diamonds over-cast. 

Thou, Love, art Master of all time, 

Lord thou of Man's career: 
Of birth, of death, peace, war's dread crime, 

Joy, pestilence and fear. 

Thou art the Life, the Soul, the Core 

Of the vast universe — 
Love's Herald ceased, he could no more, 

Love's message to rehearse. 

(To be Sung) 
Little Flower, little Flower, 

Thy breath is wafted wide; 
The murk and gloom have felt thy power, 
And may not long abide. 
* * 

Lo! as the vision stirred his heart — 

Heaven's rapture here begun — 
Death lifted high his pitiless dart 

And smote his firstborn son. 



22 A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

The future reeled before the blow, 

As fell the father's tears; 
The mother knelt in silent woe, 

Mourning the sunless years. 

The lily that beside him bloomed, 
And sweet her fragrance shed, 

She, too, by the Destroyer doomed, 
Drooping, erelong was dead. 

Alas, ah me! his love lay dead. 

His soul, with anguish torn, 
Bowed low. Soon on his storm-beat head 

Rained lurid shafts of scorn. 



Branded as heretic, outcast 
From the circle of the elect, 

His soul into the darkness passed, 
His life in shame was wrecked. 



For him who doth the light proclaim 
Which night-birds cannot see, 

The fowls of darkness will defame, 
And smirch with calumny. 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 23 

broken heart, grieving soul, 

Love's mystery moved in thee; 
Thy sorrows wrought to make us whole, 

To give us liberty! 

O'er ocean-seas Love's Herald fled, 

From grief to find surcease; 
The past is done, the future dead — 

Come solitude of peace! 



Breathe on his spirit, Ocean Wind, 
Breathe on him, Ocean Calm; 

Breathe on his spirit till he find 
Thy breath a healing balm! 



Lo! on yon looming strand I see 

A mighty man of God, 
Bronzed by the winds of land and sea, 

A tiller of the sod. 



A toiler of the sea and land, 

A soul to do and dare, 
Wrought he for Love, with toil-scarred hand, 

To build his vision fair. 



24 A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

For he had seen, with wondering eye, 

The Dayspring from afar; 
The lighting of the Eastern sky; 

The Victor's flashing car. 

Upon his darkness faintly shone 
The Fullness of the Lord — 

How shall our coldness e'er atone 
The light we have ignored? 

And in that house the Lord would show 
What he had dimly seen — 

Rejoice, sea, rejoicing flow; 
Rejoice, ye pastures green! 



As long he wrought from day to day, 
Fanned by the sea's sweet breath, 

His heart was seeking far away 
A home in Nazareth. 



A Prophet of heroic mould, 

A Man of Faith was he, 
Whose valiant soul on Truth took hold 

With no uncertainty. 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 25 

Eyes had he kindred to the light, 

Where others blindly grope; 
The vision grasped his piercing sight, 

Where others faintly hope. 

Nor waited he another's word 

To build his vision fair; 
Unto the task his loins to gird, 

Nor cringed he to Despair. 



Alone he reared Love's new abode; 

Joy rang in every blow — 
'Tis weakling Fear that needs the goad; 

How slow our hearts, how slow! 
* * 

Unto his soul the Spirit spoke: 

"Thy joy is now at hand; 
My chosen vessel, tempest-broke, 

Is mooring on yon strand. 



"Locked in his breast my precious word 

Thy hand shall free again; 
Thou, who the still, small Voice hast heard, 

Shalt give this boon to men." 



26 A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

(To be Sung) 
Little Flower, little Flower! 

Thy breath is wafted wide; 
The murk and gloom have felt thy power, 
And may not long abide. 
* * 

The wanderer came, he sought the wild 

To hide his sorrow there. 
The Prophet met Love's wayward child, 

And conquered his despair. 

As when the battle turns to rout, 

And Panic flees the field; 
Nor threat, nor blow, nor thundered shout 

From dire destruction shield, 

Sudden the clang of hooves is heard; 

A foaming steed appears, 
And, godlike, to a fiery word 

Panic gives way with cheers, 

So did the Prophet's stern command 

Arrest the fugitive, 
And, with his Heaven-invoking hand, 

Bid him arise and live. 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 27 

These leafy shades did whisper then; 

Joy filled each forest glade, 
And, breathing low, yon salty fen 

Antiphonal flute-notes made. 

The sea that bare him to our shore 

A mighty anthem raised; 
With solemn chant shall evermore 

Almighty Love be praised. 
* * 

Sing, worshiping, Sacred Muse, 

The wondrous mystery: 
How oft the weak things God doth choose 

To show His majesty! 

With foolish things He doth confound 

The wise in their conceit — 
A little child the way hath found 

Unto His mercy seat. 

(To be Sung) 
Little Flower, little Flower! 

Thy breath is wafted wide; 
The murk and gloom have felt thy power, 

And may not long abide. 



28 A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

Age-long the night of terror gloomed 

Upon the Church of God, 
Till sweet this Heavenly Floweret bloomed, 

Sprung from the wintry sod. 



The night-wrack hid the Father's face- 
The human heart a slave — 

Tyranny crushed a fear-swept race; 
Who shall the people save? 

Son of Man, upon Thy heart 

This Floweret ever bear; 
It cannot live from Thee apart; 

Let it Thy travail share! 



Son of God, enthroned on high, 
Triumphant over death — 

This sacred Flower shall fill the Sky 
With fragrance of its breath. 



Ye pilgrims from afar, behold 
This roof-tree, bent with years, 

Where Love met Faith in days of old; 
Where Doubt forgot his fears. 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 29 

Faith to this hearthstone welcomed Love; 

This threshold felt their tread; 
Here angels, hastening from above, 

Unto the conflict sped. 



Here, wrestling with self-will all night, 

Love's Herald overcame, 
And won for us the mortal fight — 

All honor to his name! 



Tread softly in this hallowed shrine 
Which now we dedicate 

To Faith, to Love of Truth Divine- 
Forever consecrate. 



Nor clustering spire, nor swelling dome, 

Nor stately pillared nave 
More hallowed than Love's ancient home 

Beside the sun-lit wave. 



When the lone beacon kindled here 
Hath shed its beams afar, 

Grown in the decades drawing near 
Unto a burning star; 



30 A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

(Guard well this beacon's holy fire, 

Let not its flame decline; 
Add precious fuel! Fiercer, higher 
Leap forth its light divine!) 

When in the flood of lapsing years 
The Church, with clearer sight, 

Shall banish medieval fears, 
And greet the rising light, 

Hither, impelled by Love's behest, 

A multitude shall flow 
From every shrine, in sacred quest, 

Glad homage here to show 



Unto our sires who steadfast stood, 
Their banner on the wind, 

Blazoned in light: God's Fatherhood 
The utmost soul shall find. 



Not theirs alone their gallant fight, 
Their tears, their martyrdom: 

Toiled they, lone heroes of the light, 
To free the Church to come. 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 31 

Those sun-lit folds through seven score years 

Have flown, to cheer the world 
Through all the strife, the blood, the tears, 

Nor shall they e'er be furled! 

Think not the age-long fight is won — 

Nay, Christian, arm thee well! — 
A vaster, deadlier strife is on, 

With the dread powers of Hell. 

Oncoming see their cohorts loom 

Implacable as death! 
They drown the sun in ancient gloom, 

They poison with their breath. 



Nor age nor sex is spared by Greed — 
World-wide the bitter cry! — 

Privilege has not changed its creed, 
Chanting Convention's lie. 



These follow close a monstrous brood, 
Born of dim-waking thought; 

Strange counterfeits of Brotherhood, 
By ancient ills distraught. 



32 A FLOWER OP THE FIELD 

Smoulder inquisitorial fires 

Of bigotry; fierce hate 
Of race for race with war conspires 

The earth to desolate; 

The mystery of Orient, 

The Equatorial night — 
These all plead that our strength be lent; 

Plead for our greater light. 



Come, Spirit of Divine Accord, 

And draw all hearts to Thee 
Till every tongue shall own Thee Lord — 

Come in Thy majesty! 
* * 

The winds of God — oh, portent strange!- 

Courage, devoted band! — 
The winds of God "will never change," 

Till Truth o'erflow the land. 



To Barnegat they urge the tide, 

The billows hither roll; 
Hither they surge from far and wide — 

Rejoice, my waiting soul! 



A FLOWER OF THE FIELD 

(To be Sung) 
Little Flower, little Flower, 

Who breath 9 st on hill and mead, 
Lo, here we sing, in this glad hour, 

The planting of thy seed! 

The sowing of the seed we know, 
The full bloom Earth shall see, 

The fruitage Heaven alone may show 
Through blest eternity. 



APPENDIX 



For the story of "Eliza" see "John Murray's Landfall/' pp. 
72-104. 

That Murray, as well as other theologians of the past — 
framers of the ancient creeds and formulas — "darkly sought" 
"our most precious thought" would appear from the extracts 
quoted below. The idea that Christ gave himself as a sacrifice 
for the sins of mankind, to satisfy the justice of God, and that 
God and Christ are one, is but a crude way of saying, through 
symbolic imagery, what we now rejoice in believing, namely, 
that the love and justice of God are one and the same thing. 

In a sense, this thought, unconsciously held, explains, in 
some degree, the tenacity with which the doctrines of the Trinity 
and the Atonement have been held throughout Christendom 
for many ages. 

To the multitude concrete symbolism makes a stronger 
appeal than logic. The human heart loves poetry, and is not 
afraid of paradox, and when the new theology ripens into poetic 
form it will take a stronger hold upon the popular heart. 

To the mind of the Universalist, there need be no essential 
conflict between the systems of Murray and Ballou, if we re- 
member that one preceded the other, and that they were both 
feeling after the same One God. Like many others before them, 
neither succeeded fully in expressing that which is ineffable. 

We read in Murray's Letters and Sketches: 

"Awake for me the judgment thou hast commanded. Ps. 
vii. Dear precious Lamb of God! How much was thy heart 



36 APPENDIX 

set on giving glory to the Highest, and, by so doing, establishing 
peace on earth and good will to men. So ardently did our Em- 
manuel desire this judgment, that, although certain it would 
cause the sweat as great drops of blood to issue from every dis- 
tended pore of his agonized body, yet his heart, made up of 
tenderness and love for the people he was to purchase, engaged 
to approach before God in the judgment He had commanded." 
Vol. I, p. 267. 

"Let us not only look, but let us keep our eye steadfastly 
fixed on this soul-satisfying sight; let us look until every other 
consideration is swallowed up in holy veneration of a spectacle 
so mysterious, so divine; until we feel every faculty expanded 
and filled with unbounded love to this Lamb of God who taketh 
away the sin of the world; until we are constrained to exclaim: 
Thou art worthy of the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for 
thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood." 
Vol. I, p. 186. 

"The creature can never fall lower than the lowest. Jesus 
Christ was made in the likeness of sinful flesh; he was the highest 
and the lowest. There was no God above him, nor no man be- 
neath him. I am, said Emmanuel, the Alpha and Omega. He 
is the foundation and the top-stone. And in his character will 
be made manifest in presence of every creature in heaven, on 
earth, and in the sea, that perfect righteousness, which, as a 
garment, shall cover every member of that mystical body of which 
he is the ever perfect, ever dignified, ever glorious head. And the 
day which approaches will reveal the salvation of the complete 
piece, of the whole family of man, when the whole human nature, 
having one new heart, shall, from the fullness of this new heart, 
ascribe to the world's Saviour all might, majesty, power, and 



APPENDIX 37 

dominion, worlds without end. Amen and Amen." Vol. Ill, 
p. 325. 

". . . As I believe Jesus Christ to be the only wise 
God our Saviour, I know no other God in whom to trust, or of 
whom to be afraid. I am a Unitarian. I believe in one God 
over all blessed forever, and I am persuaded that it is this one 
God who is the Saviour of all men. The fullness of the Deity, I 
conceive, dwelt bodily in the humanity, and I believe that he 
himself spoke by the prophets, when he said, I am God the 
Saviour, and beside me there is no other, and this faith is the 
joy of my heart, and my consolation forever." Vol. II, p. 256. 

H. N. D. 



POETICAL WORKS 

OF 

HENRY NEHEMIAH DODGE 



CHRISTUS VICTOR 

It is a superb piece of work in its conception and execution. After I had 
familiarized myself with its theme, its great central thought, its plan, by the 
first reading, I was carried on, in the second reading, as by a flood. The poem 
is a wondrous vision, sketched by a master hand. — Mary A. Livermore ( Univer- 
8alist). 

I have found it not only beautiful, but greatly inspiring. — John Fiske, LL.D., 
Litt.D. 

It gives one a nobler idea of life and lifts one upon a higher plane of living. — 
John Burroughs. 

I have been captivated by your interesting book, so full of deep thought. — 
Nikola Tesla. 

It is full of deep sympathy with the spiritual needs of our time. — Prof. Wm. 
Henry Hudson, late of Stanford University. 

American poetry has seldom, if ever, revealed such depth and power. — Prof, 
Chas. W. Hodell, Eng. Lit., Women's College, Baltimore. 

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MYSTERY OF THE WEST 

Here again Dr. Dodge has produced a work worthy to rank with the master- 
pieces of American literature. Seldom has lofty thought been clothed in more 
beautiful language. The "Christus Victor," his most ambitious performance 
until now, contains more stately verse, but the new poem is superior in originality 
and boldness of conception, in strength of phrasing, and in the exquisite adapta- 
tion of the medium of expression to the thing expressed. — Newark Evening News. 

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JOHN MURRAY'S LANDFALL 

A Romance and a Foregleam 

Exquisitely wrought and glowing in every line with the fervor of inspiration. 
John Murray* s Landfall is a poem to read and read again, until its quiet beauty 
sinks into the heart, and its noble inspiration seizes the reader. — Newark Evening 
News. 

Intense in worshipful feeling, catholic and brotherly in outlook, stately in 
diction, musical in versification. — Hartford CouranU 

I am profoundly convinced of the manifold value of your work, not only for 
its beauty and perfection of literary form, but for the intellectual power and 
spiritual uplift. — Frederick W. Hamilton, D.D. 

This poem is worthy to take its place by the side of your magnum opus — 
Christus Victor. — George B. Stewart, D.D., President Auburn Theological Seminary. 

Seldom has a poet risen to a grander conception and seldom has a conception 
received more glorious expression. — Universalist Leader, Boston, Mass. 

This charming poem tells the romantic story of John Murray. — New York 
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It is an exceedingly beautiful expression of Christian idealism, and of the 
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England. 

Of a strong and peculiar interest. — North American, Philadelphia. 

In Christus Victor and Mystery of the West Dr. Dodge gave us some beautiful 
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done. — Southwark Recorder, London, England. 

The volume is of much more than ordinary merit, giving evidence of true 
poetic feeling and delicacy of touch, while it fastens upon the reader the thraldom 
of the story. — Boston Herald. 

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